Just like this man, under the ice on the streets of Norway in January, the warm spring wind spreads from the ocean to the land. In the days to come, the long winter like a doomsday catastrophe will be slowly driven out of the south.
Vidal, the god of land and forest, and Vali, the god of nature, will plant greener and more lush plants on this land than before, and life will sing on this land again. But in Oslo in the north, the slender tentacles of spring
We haven't arrived so soon, the pale sun above our heads is weakly throwing away sparse heat, and the vitality is still hidden under the ice.
Just like this man walking on the sidewalk, his short gray-white hair is combed back, and a few strands of lifeless hair hang on his broad forehead. His eyes have a happy look, regardless of whether it is the gray-white beard that was deliberately grown.
Neither the stubble nor the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes made him look too old. The cold air boosted his spirit and made his eyes brighter. There was a light snowfall last night, and in the morning, those melted snowflakes
It turned into a disgusting slippery ice.
His steps were brisk, and he strode across the ice on the sidewalk. From the stiff black leather shoe heels to the gray-white hair that was a little messy in the wind, it was exactly one hundred and eighty-three centimeters, and his arms hidden by the gray woolen coat were just as long as
The coming warm ocean breeze is just as powerful. Good taste in dark clothes not only keeps him warm, but also gives him a mature male charm. It must be said that he is very attractive to women with Electra complex.
Casilios was looking forward to the person he was about to meet. He walked to the street cafe. The awning kept the ground a little dry, and the person waiting was standing there, looking older than him.
Slenderer, with the same tall figure obscured by a black coat casually draped over his shoulders. This person is completely opposite to him. His youthful aura exudes uncontrollably. The three huge gemstone rings of different colors not only fail to make him look...
Vulgar and gaudy, the bulging muscles under his white shirt did not make him rude. On the contrary, they combined with the dark black suit and tie to set off his unique temperament.
His long, slightly curly black hair was tied back, and a few naughty curls danced on his forehead with the breeze. A charming smile always hung on his face. He could vaguely see the inlays on his waist.
The belt with the silver buckle was tied with something long, and he could pull it out at any time as long as he stretched out his right hand.
"My child." Casilios opened his arms and hugged the young man hard. At a certain moment, the two of them were indeed very similar to father and son. This child was his spiritual sustenance on the lonely snowy mountain. He looked at this
The child grew up, went to college, and had one or two girlfriends. He watched him learn magic, learn to drive, and learn scientific knowledge that was difficult for normal people to understand.
Salomon also smiled and patted Casilios on the back. He did not object to Casilios calling him this name.
"You have a belly now, Casilios." After they separated, Salomon raised his eyebrows at him. Casilios's American English accent seemed to have changed a bit, with the refreshing atmosphere of glaciers and pastures.
"It's only been a few months, why have you become like this?"
"The father of the gods is a good hunter, and Frigga is too hospitable." Cassilios said with a smile. He pulled out the wooden seat of the coffee stall. This chair creaked, and it has been used for more than a hundred years.
They all had the same job, and today was no exception. Salomon sat down like him. Under his dark black woolen coat was a silver-plated black slender scabbard, and on the other side was a smaller one.
The scabbard. The same artistic style, but hidden by the wide coat.
Casilios hung his coat on the back of the seat. "If you eat venison, bear, and salmon every day and don't exercise because of the cold, you will be like me." He said, "You
You can’t blame me alone, the father of the gods also has a belly, it doesn’t mean anything.”
"Asgardians just can't sit still, but that's not the reason why you refuse to exercise." When the waiter brought the coffee, Salomon had no intention of talking about this mission immediately. Salomon was busy with his studies at Oxford.
, His Holiness could only assign one other person to accompany the Father of the Gods. As one of the most outstanding mystics of Karma Taj, Cassilios did his part and received the assignment of this easy task.
Whether it was Christmas or New Year, Casilios spent time in the ice and snow of Northern Europe. This kind of vacation-like mission allowed him to have a good rest, and the vast and magnificent scenery made him feel happy. Salomon
Pushing the coffee aside. He didn't like coffee, not at all, and especially the Norwegian Ferry coffee was as bad as the Americano. But he already wanted to know how to kill time with Casilios before he came here.
The money he paid was enough for the store to provide some help.
The older mystic raised his eyebrows and watched Salomon use exaggerated gestures to conjure a bottle of clear and transparent wine. The waiter brought four wine glasses and a large bottle of soda water, and the two large glasses were filled with ice.
Two small cups can only hold a little liquid. In this country, drinking is a very normal thing, and even hard liquor is welcomed by most people.
When Salomon poured the frozen, almost viscous transparent liquid from the bottle into two small glasses, Casilios raised the glass without hesitation and drank the vodka, which was as pure as ice cubes in one gulp.
Under his gaze, Salomon also raised his glass and drank the frozen wine. The vodka hit his stomach like ice cubes, making his stomach tremble with cold. Within a few seconds, the alcohol began to exert its effects.
As a result, the mystic felt like a pot of charcoal fire with a suitable temperature was stuffed into his stomach.
He exhaled a long breath.
"For Odin!" He toasted happily and casually, "The next drink is for Frigga."
Casilios nodded with satisfaction. It seemed that Salomon looked like a man.
Maybe it was one glass, maybe it was five glasses, no one knows. Maybe it was the cold wind in the north that urged them to drink every drop of wine. Salomon and Casilios did not intend to stop this time. The vodka was poured into a bottle filled with ice.
They poured soda water into the lumpy cups, and no one knew how much they drank. Among the smoked fish and sausages, among the chocolate and cheese balls, there were glasses after glasses of spirits and countless drinks.
They talked about all the topics, including the joint examination that Salomon took not long ago. When the two finally planned to get up and leave, Salomon was still not drunk at all. Only Casilios was still talking about Salomon and him when he was a child.
Stupid things I've done.
The young man listened with a smile on his face and did not interrupt the older mystic.
The alcohol concentration in the blood vessels is just right, very warm, and very suitable for chatting.
It is undeniable that Casilios did play part of the father's role in Salomon's childhood. For example, he took the boy to drink secretly, built snowmen, and threw snowballs at the boring and rigid Mordo. Salomon was quite
I am grateful to him, because he really played a good father, even if the two are not related by blood - part of the reason is that Salomon is quite worrying, and he looks completely different from a normal teenager.
Concepts and death, hustle and bustle are not interesting at all.
"What are we going to do?" When the paper cup filled with orange juice and vodka was empty, Casilios asked about the destination of this mission. Salomon shook his head and repeated the words of the Venerable nonchalantly.
After reading it again, Cassilios glanced at the young mystic, a little curious.
"This is just a task of picking up garbage." It is not unreasonable for him to call the search for props left by the gods in the past as picking up garbage, because when all the gods left the earth, they often missed some less important things. For example, Aphrodite
It's the kind of item that you always don't wear, or you have to take off your clothes immediately after wearing it. It has some magical effects, but in fact it is very useless, and it is not even qualified to be included in the temple museum.
It is said that Aphrodite's clothes were burned by Athena, but Salomon did not dare to ask about the specific circumstances.
Of course, these things will still cause some trouble after being picked up by ordinary people, and Kamal Taj will definitely solve those troubles.